


Wolftrap

by Ophite



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The X-Files
Genre: Blackmail, Coercion, Conspiracy, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder, Torture, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophite/pseuds/Ophite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>X-Files/Buffy crossover, Oz disappears from college and is taken by the Consortium. This is an ancient story. written a decade ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this. The concept and characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" belong to Joss Whedon, Warner Bros. And Mutant Enemy. The concept and characters of "The X-Files" belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and 20th Century Fox. And may I say that they just don't use my favorite characters enough. I don't claim any kind of copy write over any of this. If the situation I set up here gives you the itch to expand revise or continue (as long as I get to read it), that`s very OK with me

Wolftrap

Agrigen Facility  
Picabo, Idaho  
4:30PM 

They had grabbed him just when he was leaving Sunnydale after the whole Varuka debacle. The Consortium had been tracking her and they had found him instead. She had been their target. But after he had killed her, they had taken him. 

After being captured he had been taken to the Initiative labs. The facility was ruled over by the Ice Queen herself, Professor Walsh, who had taught his college Psychology class. He had to admit, however, that she hadn't been anything like the worm who ran this place. When the Chain Smoking Man had turned up to claim him she hadn't even turned a hair. She was as cold and hard with the Chain Smoking Man as she was with everyone else. The Chain Smoking Man had not liked that.. 

At that facility they had given him the implant. He hated it. When it was triggered it felt like a firestorm that started in his head and spread like acid along his nerves. This firestorm triggered enough pain to stagger even the beast he had become. He could understand it though. If they had implanted him and then released him, he would have surely thanked them. 

Oz gazed impassively through the steel bars of his cage at two of his captors. The ones responsible. The ones in charge. The washed out looking chain-smoker everyone was scared of and the slick haired, geek, fishy stench, Mengele-type who was in charge of the place. They looked at him as if he were a thing. He wanted to rip them apart while he was human enough to remember it and wolf enough to do a thoroughly good job of it. 

"How is the experiment progressing, Dr James?" 

"We are making great progress, Sir. We are slightly hampered, of course, by the infrequency of the change." 

"And you have found no way to trigger it?" His voice was dry, cold and disapproving. 

Dr. James cringed slightly. "No, Sir. Although the change occurs during the full moon we believe it to be the gravitational or tidal pull of the moon that triggers the change, not moonlight as the legends might imply. Sunlight does indeed inhibit the change, the need for actual moonlight, however, is purely legend. We simply can't mimic the tidal pull of the moon, in that precise alignment, to test our hypothesis. We have investigated the use of some possible psychological triggers..." 

"Yes, very well then." The Smokers eyes narrowed briefly with a quickly dismissed thought. "Have you attempted to condition him in his human stage?" 

"Yes Sir, but there is no contiguous fear response. He remembers his rage at his trainers but the fear/obedience responses simply do not carry-over into his lycanthropic state." 

"And his training in his morphed state?" 

"That is where we are making progress. The trainer you sent us is doing wonderfully with him. I believe the others all failed because they could not repress their own fear response. Once we demonstrated the effectiveness of the negative re-enforcement system to Mr. Krycek he displayed none of the heightened adrenaline responses: fearful body posture, and lowered reaction time that caused the others to fail. Fear can be scented too, and the other trainers were afterall only lab technicians..." 

"The bodies were safely disposed of?" Cut in the Smoker, uninterested in the fate of the previous trainers. 

"Oh yes, I arranged it myself, there should be no problem in that area, Sir." 

"And how soon will the subject be ready for a real world trial?" 

"Very soon. The first night of the next full moon cycle should be devoted to re-enforcing his conditioning using the test subjects you provided. After that initial period, I feel he should be ready for trial missions outside the compound." 

"Good, I will have an objective for Mr. Krycek within the next few days." 

 

***************************************

Oz sat up on the bed, watching intently as his trainer came in carrying a duffle bag and a Burger King takeout bag. Now was a perfect time to be frosty, since he was chained to the sturdy metal ring embedded in the wall above his bed. But he was willing to be patient. And besides the trainer was tolerable. Krycek didn't flinch from him like the others had, he wasn't afraid of the beast in Oz. He triggered the implant when Oz was changed, but not when he was in human form. The others had, and they had enjoyed doing it too. 

Krycek was a bad one, but Oz figured that maybe Krycek didn't have anything to prove to someone like him and he wasn't a sadist. If it wasn't necessary, and he wasn't ordered to, Krycek wouldn't hurt him. For now he could live with that until he could figure out how to escape. 

His mouth watered though at the smell of the Whopper meals in the bag Krycek was carrying, onion rings, not fries, and his stomach churned loudly. God, he hated that. It was so hard to hold onto his facade of cool indifference when his body insisted on giving him away like this, but he was always hungry before and after the change. Even his horror at the vague memories of blood and screams after the change last night couldn't suppress his appetite. 

Krycek walked up to the table at the bedside and put the bag down. "Eat, Kid." 

Oz grabbed the bag and proceeded to inhale the meal. 

If he escaped, attention would then be turned to his parents, Devon, Willow, and the rest of his friends. They had assured him of that. And then there were the personal consequences. If he got out of range trigger for more than four hours the implant would come on and stay on. So for now he was in their control, theirs to use. Their own little attack beast. The beast had been taught now. Don't attack the trainer or he will hurt you. If you don't attack him, he will provide victims. 

Varuka's death, and the knowledge that he could (and would) kill with premeditation had shaken him to his core. He had always blamed the wolf for the violence he felt. Three nights in every twenty eight days the beast in him was set loose. And for those three nights he had locked himself in a cage. Hating it, but knowing the necessity. He had killed Varuka as a wolf, but he made the decision while in human flesh. She was a killer and she had to be stopped, but now he was a killer too. He had felt the red joy of rending her flesh, the hot blood gushing from her throat across his tongue. He remembered so little from his changes, but he remembered that. It had been better than sex. 

"We're going out tonight. They have a job for us," He tossed the second bag at Oz, "Put these on, we leave in 20 minutes." 

Shit, this could only be trouble, Oz thought, as he popped the last onion ring into his mouth. 

 

********************************************

FBI Building  
Washington, DC  
1:00PM 

"Scully, take a look at this," Mulder handed a file to his partner looking forward to her attempts to rationalize the forensic evidence within it. 

She looked over the crime scene photos, her lips slightly pursed, "An animal attack?" 

"Ah, but Scully look at the DNA from the saliva and the hair samples of the attacker." 

"Human," her brows knit, "but the hair type and bite pattern is consistent with a large canine. Her brows knit in concentration; "there is some anomalous enzymatic process at work here too. The actual causative agent broke down post-mortem, but there are some genetic alterations in the tissue samples immediately surrounding the bite..." She looked up, "Mulder please don't tell me you think that this was a were-wolf. It is much more likely that someone was using a device or weapon dipped in some sort of enzymatic compound to inflict these wounds." 

"The angle of attack is wrong for that Scully," Mulder's lips quirked slightly, "I am simply creating an explanation that conforms to the evidence." 

"Be that as it may, why would this case be within the jurisdiction of the FBI?" 

Mulder's face lit up like a magician revealing his best trick, "because of the of the three other bodies found, two in Nevada and one in Utah. The MO is different. The bodies were moved post-mortem and buried in shallow graves. But the hair, saliva, and tissue samples are consistent. Our killer has been a busy boy." 

"So I gather that we are on our we to ...," Scully glanced at the file again and curled her lip, "Picabo, Idaho." 

Mulder smiled, "Tickets are waiting, our flight leaves in three hours." 

 

*********************************************

Picabo, Idaho  
Home of Dr. Weams  
10:00am 

Scully opened the door to a scene right out of a cheap teen slasher flick. The bodies of the family had been removed leaving behind chalked outlines, but the walls were liberally sprayed with long sweeping arcs of blood. As if the killer had slashed arteries and then chased his victims through the house. Security bars on the windows had trapped the family inside. "Mulder, is there any explanation for why no one made it outside?" 

"The police found evidence that the doors were blocked from the outside during the attack. There were at least two people involved in this, Scully, the killer, and a confederate who sealed the house once the killer was inside. 

"Any possible motives or suspects?" 

"Nothing definite, but is seems that Mr. Weams was involved in a bit of industrial espionage." Mulder frowned, "He worked for Agrigen, a genetic engineering company specializing in grains." He added , "Corn for instance." 

"Mulder, I know that the conspiracy exists, but it is not everywhere or responsible for everything." He moved to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. "I'm not saying that it is not possible. Just don't jump to conclusions too quickly." 

"This wasn't a random killing Scully," Mulder huffed with annoyance, "This was a very strongly worded message." 

"It may have been Mulder, but we need some evidence to prove that." 

"Our next stop is the Agrigen facility," He shrugged, "we'll see what we can turn up there." 

 

**********************************************

"Sir, there were two FBI agents here asking questions. They have made a connection between Mr. Weams' death and the three lab technicians." Dr. James' nervous voice quivered into the Smoking man's ear. An irritation. "You told me that you had taken care of them." The smoker's voice was implacable as his calm hands drew a cigarette from the box. 

"Three of them were discovered sir," Dr. James continued, trying to pacify both the Smoking man and his own nerves, "but they haven't been identified nor have the test subjects been found." 

"Ah, but then Mr. Krycek is a competent employee." He waited for Dr. James to draw the correct inference before continuing. "This situation will be controlled. Feed the agents the cover story. I will take care of the rest." The Smoker hung up the phone and hit the speed dial. "Alex, a team from vaccination testing will be arriving to collect Dr. James in two more days. It seems his future usefulness lies in other areas. See that he is available to them. Also retrieve Agent Scully, a lycanthropic partner would put a decided crimp in Agent Mulder's endeavors." He listened to the reply, "Yes that will do nicely." Mr. Spender smiled with satisfaction after hanging up this time. Things were progressing nicely. 

 

*************************************************

Agrigen Facility  
Sub-basement  
7:00PM 

Scully woke slowly to a headache and to the sound of a soft slightly husky voice sighing, "Oh lady, I don't know who you are but you must have really yanked the Smoker's chain." Callused fingertips were softly stroking her cheeks and forehead. Gently urging her towards consciousness. 

Not Mulder. Not a hospital. Her eyes snapped open and met the guarded hazel gaze of the young man hovering over her. His face was attractive in a sharp angular fashion with sandy, spiky hair. She pegged him automatically at about 19 or 20. 

"Where am I?" 

"Don't know, I'm a mushroom here. But there are mountains to the west," He offered. "My name is Oz.." He raised an enquiring eyebrow at her. 

"Agent Dana Scully" 

"A G-Ma'am," he quipped. "Does that mean that the cavalry will be arriving sometime soon?" The voice was laconic, but Scully could see an underlying tension in his body language, "Just to give you a heads up, on time for you will be before moonrise tonight. Feels like it'll be soon" 

"Why before moonrise?" 

He sighed heavily, "Because that's when I'll change. You could try killing me before I do. I'd try to let you. But I think my trainer would stop you. They monitor the room." 

"Change how?" 

"I'm a werewolf" 

"I don't believe in werewolves." 

"Hate to screw with your worldview," he shrugged, "but reality isn't waiting for your stamp of approval. He continued dispassionately. "When the moon rises I'll change and attack you. If you survive and I bite you... you will become like me." Oz shrugged again, "It's catching." 

Oz looked up and tensed. The heavy door swung open. 

"Mr. Krycek!" Dr. James exclaimed fussily, "I am responsible for this program and you will follow the protocols I give you. You will secure her arm to the bars and then remove the test subject from confinement before he metamophasizes. After she is infected, you shall take him through the cleared hall to the lab area. We have much to do in the short time remaining and Mr. Spender is expecting results. 

Oz heard The trainer mutter, "Two more days," under his breath, too softly for human ears, then comment more loudly, "It's not safe." 

"Demanding obedience is the only way to condition the Test Subject to obey, and the implant is sufficient to control him. 

"Yeah. Well we've only got 10 minutes till moonrise, let me get this done. Leave the door locked open, I don't want to mess with it once he is changed." 

Dr. James gave Krycek a quick nod, "I'll be waiting for you in the lab Mr. Krycek," and hurried from the room. 

Krycek punched out the numbered code into the lock on the cage door. "Ok Oz, come out and stand in the far corner away from the door then get undressed." 

Oz complied silently. Then abruptly said, "I don't want to do this." He was beginning to shiver, his eyes blank with an effort at self control as he felt the first pull of the change. 

Scully watched as Krycek looked at Oz for a moment an expression that was more resignation than sympathy, "But neither of us has a choice Oz. You serve or they die. That's how this works." He turned and approached Scully and grabbed her by the chain connecting the handcuffs on her wrists. He opened one cuff, pulled her to the bars, and snapped it shut on one. She maintained a white-lipped silence, too angry and frustrated to speak, knowing that there was nothing she could say to him that wouldn't sound impotent. 

Krycek left the cage, and another sound caught her attention. Oz moaned and Scully watched in horror as he began to change. Oz didn't look at her. All his attention was focused on Krycek. As the hair and nails sprouted and his body began to twist out of human shape, he locked his eyes on his trainer. 

Krycek's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "What are you doing, Kid?" He asked softly and answered, "Don't you focus on me, Oz, my teeth are sharper." 

Oz answered, as he tensed to spring and the last of himself faded away, "That didn't help the others." 

Krycek's thumb hit the button before Oz could even leap, pain sent him writhing to the floor. Krycek stood holding the remote control in one hand and a shock prod in the prosthesis. The snarling creature, a deformed amalgamation of man and wolf snarled, it's attention focused on Krycek. It rose again stalking him with dogged determination. 

"SIC," commanded Krycek swinging the rod towards Scully. The creature leapt at Krycek instead, only to stumble back howling in pain as Krycek thumbed the remote once more. "SIC", insisted Krycek again. Swinging the taser towards Scully. Her heart almost stopped when the beast crouched and followed the movement in her direction, it's eyes locked on her. As it sprang she jerked as far back away as she could, but the beast slashed at her arm through the bars, forcing a cry of pain from her. "Quit dicking around and bite her," urged Krycek. There was supposed to be a minimal amount of actual damage done to Scully. 

Suddenly the beast threw up its head it's attention turned from her to the door. It's lip curled back taking a deep careful breath. And then another, a deep growl burst from it's chest. Dr. James appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Krycek, what is taking..." He froze under the creature's predatory gaze. Then he ran leaving the door open allowing the beast to follow him in hot pursuit. 

"Shit." Commented Krycek, as he slapped the failsafe button to seal the facility, then left after them. Maybe Spender wouldn't care too much if the wolf got James before the black oil did. 

 

*************************************************

Fish smell.... Prey... kill...other blocking ...fear smell... rage... blood.... Pleasure.... Fish prey...runs chase...other.... Blood.... Hot....PAIN...Alpha.... Throw meat... alpha falls.... fear ... the pain...bone crack ... kill?...fish prey runs...fear smell sound....chase.... 

The beast followed his training perfectly. The Alpha had released him in an enclosed place, he would kill all the prey here. The Alpha would be pleased, there would be no pain. 

 

*************************************************

Mulder arrived at the Agrigen facility in the predawn light and went straight to the front door. A wiggle proved that it was locked. Breaking in would bring guards, but by this time Mulder was almost frantic with worry about what they might be doing to his partner. He pulled his weapon and shot at the glass panel in the door. The bullets cracked but did not break the glass. Four more shots did the job and Mulder finished it by kicking at the cracked section until it fell away. 

He moved through the gap expecting to be challenged at any moment, but was greeted only by silence and the smell of fresh death. The guard at the front desk lay sprawled across the floor next to his seat. His throat and abdomen were slashed open. Mulder noted defensive wounds on his arms and shins, and what looked like a bite wound deep in his shoulder. He could picture the creature teeth buried in the man's shoulder holding him in place during the attack. The guard trying to keep his arms and legs between his torso and the beast's claws, and eventually failing. 

Mulder moved cautiously away from the body deeper into the building, more worried than ever for his partner's safety. 

There were more bodies, some security, others apparently lab technicians. Mulder moved quickly but as quietly as he could manage. He could feel tightness between his shoulders. The scream ahead was almost a relief. It was definite information. Something down here was still hunting but it wasn't behind him, it was there ahead. So Mulder picked up his pace as outside the sun rose above the horizon. 

Around another corner Mulder found yet another dead body and the only living person he had yet to find. Naked, unconscious, covered in drying blood and healing welts, some appearing to be bullet wounds, Mulder knew that he had found his werewolf. Now he needed his partner. He toed the young man roughly in the ribs then stepped back. Hazy, heavy eyes opened and looked blearily, coming to focus on the gun pointed at him. 

He spoke coldly, "I am Agent Mulder of the FBI, where is my partner, Dana Scully." 

Oz propped himself up a little on his side, upper leg drawn up to provide some cover. Took a moment to clear his head and answered, "Probably still down in my kennel, unless someone moved her. 

"Did you hurt her?" Agent Mulder's face was frozen with strong emotion. 

"My life probably depends on giving you the right answer, but I don't have one. She was a little protected though," he offered consolingly, "She was behind the bars." 

"Where is she?" Mulder repeated. 

Oz propped himself a little higher off the floor, and after a few breaths pointed down the hall. "That way, I think" 

"Take me there" He motioned with his weapon. 

Oz sighed heavily, thinking that a pair of pants would really be nice about now, *but unwilling to argue with the stressed agent-with-a-gun* rose and padded down the hall where his nose detected the faint scent of chemicals and perfume that was Agent Scully. 

Stopping suddenly by a door labeled MENS LOCKER, Oz turned his head and asked Mulder, "Mind if we stop in here real quick and take care of my draft problem?" 

Mulder knew he should allow it, but couldn't stand the thought of any delay in retrieving Scully, "No, we find Scully first." His worry for Scully made him angry. "Why do you work for them?" Mulder asked coldly. 

Oz shrugged continuing on past the door. "Could be the extended family insurance package, and there's that killer of a severance deal too." 

"They took you." Mulder said with less heat, gun lowering slightly. 

"They have an aggressive recruitment policy," Oz agreed. This way, that door on the end" He turned left at the T intersection. He could smell his trainer down the other way. Hear his faint breathing and made the decision that he would not lead Mulder to him. 

They hurried to the open door. Mulder froze at the sight of Scully lying unconscious against the bars, her arm pulled up by the handcuff, covered in blood and bandaged with her shirt. 

Oz moved swiftly to the cage door and punched in the combination. Mulder watched him in startlement. "The techs thought I didn't know the combo, my trainer knew, but like he said, where was I gunna go?" 

Oz went to the corner of the room where his coveralls still lay while Mulder went in and released Scully's arm. In spite of the bandage and elevation, she had lost quite a bit of blood. She was chilled and maybe in shock. "Come on Scully," Mulder said tapping her face gently, "Show me you can wake up." Her eyes opened and she whispered his name. 

Oz came up beside him. "Let's go. Look, I'll help you with her. We need to go now! More men will be coming as soon as they realize that their men aren't answering the phone. " They gathered Scully up between them and hurried back out the way Mulder had come in. 

They carefully exited the doorway, passing Scully between them through the broken glass into the bright morning sun. 

"How far to the car?" Asked Oz carefully supporting a semiconscious Scully, while Mulder scanned for movement. 

"Right around the corner of the building." Mulder led the way to the rental car and unlocked the doors. Oz helped slide Scully into the car. 

"You ride in back with Scully. It's about 45 min to the nearest hospital, but the bleeding has stopped." He glanced up and was surprised to see Oz backing away from the car. "Get in!" Mulder repeated urgently. 

"I can't come with you," Oz answered sadly. Mulder's brows knit with sudden anger and suspicion. "They know who I care about," continued the young man, "where they live, what they do. I can't leave until they are safe." 

"They will use you to kill again" hissed Mulder. 

"They will use something or someone else if I leave, and my friends and my parents will all be dead too." 

Oz turned and jogged rapidly towards the door. Agent Mulder held his gun, looking after him for a long moment then holstered it, climbed in the car and drove away. 

 

*************************************************

Krycek opened his eyes to a splitting headache and Oz's hazel eyes. Oz had a cup of water and a couple of pills. 

"I scrounged these up for you," he said phlegmatically handing them to the trainer. He gave a deep sigh. "I did a real job on this place; we're probably in trouble." 

Krycek's hand shot up and grabbed Oz by the collar flipping him to the ground and pinning him there. "You get no second chance to kill me kid." 

"I was counting on not succeeding." Oz said baring his throat for Kyrcek's hands. 

"Right." Ground out Krycek, but he paused curious about the excuses the kid would give. 

"I didn't want to change her or kill her," Oz said. "If I had killed you, I would have turned on her next." 

Krycek sighed, thinking a moment of nano's, making the choice of who would live and who would die ... and what Spender would do to him if he killed the kid, then let him up. 

Oz rolled to his feet and retrieved the Tylenol. 

Krycek took them and the controller which was peeking from the pocket of Oz's coveralls, asking "What about Scully?" 

"She made it out safe, a guy named Mulder came for her." 

"Well that's too bad then. You of course don't remember much because of the change." Krycek said looking at Oz . 

"Practically nothing," agreed Oz. "Woke up in the hall next to the locker room. We're the only ones left." Oz's eyes were carefully averted from the corpse next to Krycek. 

"There are surveillance tapes you know." 

"Unexplained fire in the security room." 

Krycek's mouth quirked in amusement, "You have potential Oz." Then more seriously "better than that girl Varuka." 

"Like I want to hear that." 

Krycek shrugged, "I hate working with psychos who like the wet work too much. They get sloppy and make mistakes." 

Oz met Krycek's eyes a moment, "The beast is in me all the time. It did this, it liked doing this." 

Krycek shrugged, "The beast is in all of us. Let's go, my head is killing me and we need to report to Spender and get a clean up crew here. Then I need a bed and six hours." 

 

The End


	2. Slipping the Noose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this years ago, I had a beta for this one, Evil Kid aka Erika aka ChinaE, so it turned out more polished than my usual. Oz is being trained in the craft by Krycek.

**Washington DC**

**Consortium Faculty**

**3:45PM**

Spender, who sat behind his desk, slowly exhaled a stream of smoke. It floated and spiraled in the space between him and the two men who sat across from him. They were a mismatched pair; Krycek was calm and impassive giving his report on the Agrigen incident. Young Osborne, on the other hand, was tense and obviously stressed, and although the signs were small they were noticeable. The young man’s eyes were dilated, darting at the Smoker and then at Krycek, his nose flared, and his upper lip occasionally twitched with suppressed aggression. He hated being here. Krycek took note of these signs and asked the Smoker, “May I dismiss him Sir?”

The Smoker paused, making them wait for it before agreeing.

“Oz,” The young man’s attention shifted to Krycek. “Go to the room I showed you, wait for me there.”

With a quick nod he was gone.

“The operation was something less than a complete success, ” the Smoker commented dryly.

Krycek shrugged indifferently. “James was a fuckup, but the situational containment was successful. The site was cleared of evidence. Nothing Mulder and Scully may claim to have seen is verifiable. The implant works within predictable limits, so Oz is trainable. Scully wasn’t infected, but like I said, James screwed the pooch on that one.”

“So do you want to keep him?” Spender smiled with malice, “Pets are so time consuming. Will you have time to feed him, walk him, or train him...?" The Smoker's mocking voice prodded at Krycek, he paused and then continued more seriously, “I don’t think he is entirely stable. His loyalties are questionable.”

“He’s still a little stressed, but he didn’t lose it until after we got out of the area. He’s more stable than at least two other agents that I won’t name. As for his loyalties,” Krycek jerked his head at the absurdity of that word, “we have enough handles to grab him by and he knows it.”

“What are the limits of his conditioning?”

“When he’s changed he will attack,” Krycek reflected a moment about his time at Agrigen, “but I don’t think he will attack me if there are other targets available. When I was out he went after the other targets, not me, but that’s nothing I would bet my life on. As a man ... he has the right instincts. He represses them because he’s frightened of them, and of losing control, but he has them. He just needs to be taught control.”

Spender considered this for a few moments. “Start his training, and then we’ll see.”

Krycek nodded and then took his leave. He had his doubts about whether Oz could adapt to this life. Oz had a strong need to separate his humanity from the actions of his bestial self. Indeed he had a deep-seated need to control the normal violent impulses that everyone experiences. He saw them as evidence of the beast. Control was a good thing, but Cancerman would eventually order Oz to kill, as a test of loyalty if nothing else. To Oz, committing murder as a human would be an unacceptable crossing of the barrier he had set for himself. The barrier of what he could do without being a beast. Killing Varuka had made him very sensitive to his boundaries. Even overt violence might be a problem. Krycek pondered how to handle the situation while rubbing his still aching head, then decided to deal with it in the morning.

**Washington DC**

 **Consortium Faculty**

 **

Some time later

**

Oz watched puzzled as Krycek started to haul several large boxes into the room on a dolly. A 2’X 3’ cage, litter box, food, litter... “We getting a pet?” Oz asked carefully.

“That and other stuff.” He handed to Oz a small perforated box that held a shifting creature inside. Oz opened the box and lifted out a small black rabbit. While Oz was occupied playing with the rabbit, Krycek was pulling technical manuals on alarm systems, locksmithing, and some plank strips that had doorknobs and locks inserted all along their edges from yet another box. "You have to start learning the tricks of the trade. Locks first, security systems, searching a room, and data retrieval next.”

Oz looked skeptically at Krycek.

“Don’t have any illusions Oz. If you are not useful in this capacity they will send you back to a lab for a nice round of vivisection.”

Oz met his eyes for a few moments frowning unhappily, then as was his habit, he accepted that the world was as it was rather than as he would have it. He let the rabbit loose to explore the room, picked up the first locksmith’s manual and began to read.

************************

**Washington DC**

**Consortium Faculty**

**later yet**

Oz walked into his room drenched in sweat from the workout he had just finished with his hand to hand instructor. The sight of Krycek sitting at his desk and the scent of his anger stopped Oz cold. Intense green eyes met his and Oz felt the weight of his disapproval. "What good are all those lessons in computer hacking and security if you can't be bothered to clean your own hard drive."

"What?" Oz responded with some confusion.

"This site, with webmistress Willow Rosenburg."

"I just ..."

"You just want to display your weaknesses to any moron who takes a look at your laptop. Do you think that this continued interest does her or you any good?"

Oz's eyes dropped, knowing exactly what Krycek was trying to tell him. The time he spent keeping track of Willow was a danger to both of them. She could be injured or killed for his failures or maybe for following his trail from her site; and a threat to her could take away all his resistance. He nodded reluctantly, "I'll take care of it."

"Good, after you shower put in some practice on your guitar, you don't want to lose your digital dexterity there. Street busking is a good cover for hanging around a park or a busy street." Krycek left the room and Oz sat down to sanitize his laptop. He sometimes hated all the strictures Krycek put on his life, but he recognized the guarded fondness the man had for him, and understood that what Alex was really doing was showing him the rules of survival here in this place.

***********************

**Crystal City**

**Skinner’s apartment**

**6 months later**

AD Skinner stepped into his apartment with a tired sigh. He flicked the switch to the right of the door and froze at the sight of a familiar black leather jacket draped over the back of his couch. He looked for its owner, his lips pressed together with tension and his gut knotted wondering what would be expected of him this time.

The man gazing at him though deceptively half-lidded eyes wasn’t Krycek. He was much younger, maybe 19 or 20 with spiky black hair, wickedly arched brows set on an angular face. Another familiar item lay under his hand, on the arm of the chair he sat in. The palm pilot. Skinner’s leash.

“Who are you?” Skinner asked in bitter tones.

“Transportation,” the young man replied in a deadpan voice, “we're off to see the Wicked Wizard of the West.”

“Krycek?”

“No, the Smoker.” He rose from the chair and retrieved the jacket. He then motioned Skinner to move ahead of him through the door.

“Why the jacket?”

“My letter of introduction,” he shrugged.

“What do I call you?” Asked Skinner probing for more information.

“Oz.” Skinner’s brows knitted at the obvious alias. His captor saw the expression. “I’m a flying monkey in training,” the young man expanded.

“You think this is funny?” Skinner asked, his temper escaping from him for a moment.

"Not really, it actually kind of sucks.” Oz sighed, he wondered if he should say more, but then he had probably already said too much. This assignment was most likely not about Spender’s need to see Skinner. It was most likely an on the job training experience, like planting bugs in Mulder’s apartment. That had been a piece of cake, but this was a little more involved than that had been.

Alex had given him the assignment: Pick up a semi-cooperative target, and provided a quick explanation of how to do it. He would be picking up Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI. Krycek had given him some dos and don’ts, shown him how to find all the information he’d asked for, and okayed the final plan that Oz had developed. He had very much approved of the jacket idea. _Krycek had told him, “The less time spent in getting him to come with you, the better. The jacket is a really good move, it implies back-up and saves you a lot of needless explanation and persuasion. Talk to him a little, fuck with his head, keep him busy and distracted but don’t give him information that he doesn’t already have."_ The flying monkey line in training line, while kind of cool, had blown his amateur status. A more resistant target would see that as an opening. But he felt like venting and he felt bad for this man who was as trapped as he was.

In for a penny ... “It’s the gun that bothers me the most.”

Skinner stopped, his head whipped around.

“He makes me wear it, all the time, no exceptions. He says my life will depend on it being more a part of me than his left arm is part of him. I don’t want to be what he is teaching me to be, but there just isn’t any way out.” Regret crept into that last statement. Regret for what he was doing now and for what he knew they would make him do in the future.

Skinner felt odd for wanting to say something hopeful to the young man who was in essence kidnapping him, but really there was nothing to say, he understood how the Consortium could suck a person in and trap them in a web of impossible choices. “Can you live with what you do?”

“There are people I care about.” He shrugged and motioned Skinner forward again, “and they have their own little palm pilot for me.” Oz snorted softly, “Alex says the best thing I can do for the people I love is to kick them in the teeth. I miss knowing real people, normal people.”

Skinner sighed, there really was nothing he could say about this that would make things better. They continued walking to the garage in silence.

“You have to wear this hood” Oz held out a loose black cloth hood to Skinner who looked decidedly resistant to the idea. “it’s part of my instructions, but you can pick the music.” Oz offered.

Skinner sighed in annoyance, tonight just couldn't get any worse.

***********************

**Washington DC**

**Consortium Faculty**

**9:30PM**

Spender’s lips were compressed as he listened to the taped conversation. “He was talking too much, whining like a child."

“I told him to talk and he took the perfect approach with Skinner,” disagreed Krycek with a pleased twist to his mouth. “Skinner is by nature a protector of victims. Even if events fell badly and he felt he had to escape, that heartwarming little revelation would reduce the chances he would try for a lethal shot at Oz. Also, by seeing Oz as a victim, he may be less guarded with him.

“Perhaps I should form a long-term connection there,” Spender looked at Krycek with malicious, knowing eyes, “if Oz is so astute at handling him.”

Krycek returned the look, all his feelings hidden behind opaque green eyes. _The kindest thing you can do for those you love is to never show a sign. “Kick them in the teeth.” He had told Oz that, it was the credo he lived by._ “For casual contact that might be a good idea but Oz isn’t hard enough yet to force Skinner.”

“When will he be?”

“It will come,” Krycek said with assurance. “He has a strong conscience. That has to be overcome without destroying his judgment or self-discipline. His technical training will take at least a couple of years to complete. This isn’t a rush job though, is it?” Krycek tilted his head questioningly.

Timetables scrolled across Spender’s mind for a moment before he answered, “No, disposable muscle is readily available.” He looked at Krycek with an artist’s proud eye, “talented agents must be carefully... molded.” He rose from his chair tapping another cigarette from the box. “When they arrive take Oz to the observation room, my interview with Skinner should be educational for him.” Spender nodded in dismissal, adding, “Punish him for the flying monkey comment. It was stupid of him to give away his inexperience and give him the rabbit test tomorrow.”

“It’s too soon for that.”

Spender glared “It is never too soon to learn obedience Alex.”

Krycek nodded and headed for the entrance hall, he never had been one to waste an opportunity, tomorrow’s problems he would deal with tomorrow.

***********************

As he entered the hall Skinner’s tired face hardened at the sight of Krycek leaning against the wall. Oz looked enquiringly at Krycek, “Well?”

“Palm pilot.” Krycek held out his hand and Oz handed him his jacket and the small computer. He put on the jacket and keeping Skinner’s palm pilot in hand told Oz, “Flying monkey would have been okay, in training was too much information” Krycek calmly stated as he keyed Oz’s implant. Skinner watched in shock as the boy went crashing to the ground. Oz was writhing and arching against the pain, jaws locked together, he whined in agony.

“Stop this,” gritted Skinner stepping towards Krycek who promptly threatened him with his own palm pilot.

Krycek shook his head. “Spender’s orders. He’s waiting down the hall, last door.” Krycek jerked his head in the appropriate direction. “I’ll take care of Oz. It’s just pain, no damage.” Krycek keyed off the implant and Oz slumped shivering and panting on the floor. Skinner gritted his teeth against his anger; there was nothing he could do about this now so he turned down the hall reluctantly leaving Oz to Krycek’s care.

***********************

Exhausted and faintly nauseated AD Skinner left the meeting. The meeting had been 45 minutes of threat, innuendo, and choking cigarette smoke in a small overheated under-ventilated room. Punishment for failing to rein Mulder in, as if any such thing was possible. Mulder could be steered or sidetracked, but even losing Scully hadn’t reined him in. He stopped up short when he saw Krycek waiting for him in the hallway.

“Where is Oz?”

Krycek shrugged indifferent to Skinner’s concern. “Oz has studying to do. I get to take you home. Let’s go.” Krycek walked away briskly down the hall leaving Skinner to follow behind him as he would.

The ride home was silent, and Skinner was surprised when Krycek followed him out of the car. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“With you.”

Skinner sighed with exhaustion, wondering if this night would ever end. He walked to his apartment, determined to pay as little attention as he could to the man behind him. He walked through his front door straight for his bar, and poured himself a glass of scotch. Krycek walked over and turned on the sound system, hit the CD player and listened to the jazz that filled the room. He watched Skinner silently as he downed his drink in one long swallow then came up behind, him reached up with his good right hand, and stroked Skinner’s back from the nape of his neck down to the small of it where he rested his hand. Skinner stood stiff and resistant under his touch, denying him emotionally what he could not physically.

“Oz has a test tomorrow," Krycek breathed into Skinner’s ear. “I don’t think he will pass it.” His hand traveled down the hard lines of Skinners thigh.

“So this is blackmail?” Skinner asked bitterly.

“No, this is a cover,” Krycek’s lips rimmed Skinner’s ear, hand traveling up and around, tracing Skinner’s abs. “Oz will not survive the Consortium’s interest in him, but I have a way to get him out.” He explained as he nipped Skinner’s ear. “You will cooperate,” Krycek said in a louder voice. “The Palm Pilot is set on a timer, if I don’t get back or if I’m not pleased with you...” He pulled Skinner’s stiff body tight to his and rubbed his hard length against Skinner’s ass.

“Cover." Skinner hissed disparagingly.

“I’ve wanted this since I first met you,” Krycek loudly enough to be caught by any bugs even over the music, “Spender’s gonna give you to Oz, but first...” His eyes were glittering with heat as he pulled Skinner to the couch. He kissed Skinner’s stiff lips passionately. Then drew back and barked angrily. “You will go with this or I will fry your ass no matter what Spender wants. Don’t doubt me Skinner. I want this and I will take it.”

Another hoop to jump through, Skinner thought bitterly accepting the inevitable. He took a deep breath, doing his best to relax and separate his mind from what his body would do to survive. He did not doubt Krycek's threat at all.

Krycek seeing his acceptance smiled grimly at him, “Take off your coat and shirt.” While Skinner undressed, Krycek slid out of his jacket and t-shirt. When they were both bare to the waist, he twisted sideways on the couch spread his legs he was rock hard and pulled Skinner down on top of him. “To get Oz out, the consortium has to think he’s dead and we have to get the electrode out of his head,” Krycek gasped softly into Skinner’s ear as he ran his hand down his back.

Surprise sparked Skinner’s face, and he murmured back, “You actually plan to free Oz?” He asked, tentatively reaching out to stroke Krycek’s face delaying any more intimate touches.

“Yes, but I can’t use my contacts on this one, Spender is watching me. Oz needs a doctor and an identity that can’t be cracked. With those I can get him out.” Krycek undulated pushing his crotch up against Skinner’s.

"Why?"

"I do what I do because I believe that it has to be done." Krycek reached between them and popped the buttons of his fly opened. "Oz has the potential to be a great agent, but he never will be. Kiss me, my face, my throat." His whole body shuddered with excitement at the touch of Skinner's lips, he had fantasized about this for so long, and if Skinner wasn't completely willing, well then, this was close enough. "No matter how good he is they will never see him as more than a lab rat." He began working at the fastenings of Skinners trousers. "As long as I am successful I survive, but Oz, no matter how good he is, will never be more than a whim away from a vivisection table. And he is too valuable for that," Krycek smiled almost happily, "and there are things they don't know about Oz."

Skinner stiffened once more as Krycek began to circle his nipples with his fingernails, and murmured, “And how real will this cover be?”

“Absolutely unbreakable,” breathed Krycek, sliding his hand into Skinner’s pants to cup the hot, hard flesh waiting there."

***********************

Oz lay on his bed studying computer coding. Buster Bunny was a warm solid weight, napping, perched on the small of his back. Willow had always been the hacker/code breaker for their merry little band back in Sunnydale. Oz wondered if he could outstrip her now. Krycek always emphasized that information was the most valuable thing you could steal provided you knew who needed it. The way to destroy any organization was to eliminate those people who understood how to use their group's proprietary knowledge. Eliminate. Kill. Only a week until the change, he would kill again, Krycek had already told him they were going out that night.

Oz glanced up casually when Krycek walked in the room then froze, the man was wearing his game face. It was a still concoction with a faint built in sneer, everything that would tell the world he was as soulless as any vampire. He walked up to Oz, scooped Buster off of his back and said, "Up Oz, time for a test." Oz cautiously stood up, knowing that there must be alot riding on this test. This wasn't going to be anything so simple as a theft or snatching a FBI AD. "The order has come down from Spender. Kill him." Krycek said flatly indicating the rabbit in his hands.

Oz's eyes locked on Krycek's in shock, the order felt like betrayal (a joke?), they were implacable. Oz looked at Buster. "You knew this would happen?"

"Yes. Take him by the back of the head and then and swing him hard over the back of your hand. It will break his neck, quick and almost painless."

"No."

Krycek's lips tightened, he shrugged and an put Buster on the floor. Before Oz could move to protect the creature, Krycek brought his boot down hard on its lower back, crushing it. Buster who had never uttered a sound in all of his life screamed with agony. He tried to crawl to safety dragging his limp crushed hindquarters behind him. Oz stared in numb disbelief for a moment, then crouched down, picked him up exactly as Krycek had recommended and quickly snapped the creature’s neck. He cuddled the limp body close staring up at Krycek feeling an overwhelming kind of violence and rage welling in him.

"The lesson Oz, is that to refuse the order does not save the target. It merely puts their death into the hands of some psycho who has no motivation to make a quick clean job of it." Krycek triggered the implant plunging Oz into a world of pain. He took the small corpse from Oz's shaking hands and carried it with him when he left.

***********************

**Undisclosed Location**

**Spender's office**

**Undisclosed time**

"He failed the test," commented the Smoker.

Krycek cocked his head. "Oz had the lesson clearly demonstrated," he countered, "the test comes later. You told me I would have time to train him."

"I'm not sure I can trust such an unreliable agent to mold a young mind," answered Spender in light tones.

Krycek looked puzzled for a moment. Then questioned flatly, "You're that pissed about me fucking with Skinner?"

"It brings your reliability into question."

"Because I had sex with him?" Krycek snorted softly. "I think my record with the guy speaks for itself."

"Why now Alex?"

"I could have always blackmailed him with the palm pilot, but I didn't have a carrot to encourage any kind of enthusiasm. Oz is a wonderful carrot." Krycek's mouth bent in a slow satisfied smile, "Besides, if you're going to give him to Oz, I figured I'd better stop screwing around and take him while I've got him."

"We are watching you Alex," warned the Smoker.

Krycek shrugged as he tuned to go. "Enjoy the show."

**************************

**Washington DC**

**No tell Motel**

**Evening**

Krycek stroked his hand up Skinner's naked chest his mouth quirked a little with pleasure at the tactile thrill of it. "Touch me Skinner, the way you know I like it." He told him and then arched his back against the hand that stroked him from nape to ass, feathering along the cleft of his buttocks and ended in the hard dig of nails into his ass. He gasped and sucked, open mouthed along Skinner's neck to that sensitive spot beneath his ear. Skinner was hard and it thrilled him. He knew it was only physical but it satisfied something deep inside him to know, in spite of everything, Skinner was hard... for him.

"It has to be very soon. Cancerman is still giving me a line about training Oz." Krycek's hand slid down to Skinner's taunt ass, "but pressure is growing to get him back in the lab, it has to be this full moon." His fingers sliding along the crease there, toying with the sensitive flesh around Skinner's hole while Skinner's teeth left bruises on his shoulders. "Spender wants to send one of his special little messages." Alex spread his legs further letting Skinner's cock press hard against his groin, Skinner's hips undulated and stroked against his, wringing a gasp from him. "Do me now."

He was already lubed. Krycek always prepared himself ahead of time and Skinner was always the one on top. Skinner had learned he could be as hard and angry as he wanted, punish Alex brutally with his body. Take anything because Alex craved Skinner's participation and his pleasure. Skinner plunged into him with a minimum amount of preparation groaning as Krycek clenched him in the furnace heat of his body, and they gasped out the plan to each other between brutally hard thrusts. Krycek was clinging so tightly to Skinner that there would be bruises in the morning.

******************

**Skinner's office**

Skinner watched as Mulder and Scully entered the office, Alex had assured him that today at least they were safe from surveillance. When they had seated themselves he said, "I have something to ask you." He tried to convey the gravity of the situation through his voice. "If you had the opportunity to free someone from the Consortium, would you do it?"

The two agents shared a quick glance with each other. Skinner did not usually acknowledge the Consortium's existence in their presence. Although they all knew he was often pressured by that organization.

Agent Mulder answered for both of them. "Are you sure it's safe to talk about it here?"

"For now? Yes."

"Will he be willing to testify if we get him out?" asked Scully all business now.

"Not possible agent Scully, once we get him out we haven't the ability to protect him."

"Who will?" Mulder asked intent now.

"They will believe he is dead and, with a new identity, he will run as far from their normal spheres of influence as he can manage."

"So what do you need from us?"

"From you Mulder I will need an identity that will stand up to close scrutiny, and you will also have a part to play in staging the death scene." Skinner shifted his attention to Scully. "From you he will need a bit of surgery done to remove an implanted tracking device."

"I'll need photos for the IDs." said Mulder.

Skinner slid a small envelope over the desk to him. Mulder opened it and glanced at the picture inside, his eyes widened a bit. Scully's eye brow rose in inquiry and Mulder passed her the pictures.

"Oz?" She asked startled.

Mulder asked, "How did he get into a position to deal for his freedom? When we last saw him he was a test subject."

"Krycek."

********************

**Friday March 6th 4:00pm**

Oz knew the moment Krycek stepped into his room that something big was up. Not a sign of it showed in Krycek's face or his body language, but this close to the moon Oz could smell the adrenalin saturating the air around his body. Not just the sexual excitement and the smell of lube that meant Krycek would be seeing the AD that night, but more. Excitement, fear ... A mission tonight then, not just an assignment from the Smoker though ... or maybe a risky one. He hoped that there wouldn't be any family members involved

"Pack your kit Oz, we have a job tonight."

Oz didn't bother to try to hide his anxiety. “Who?"

Alex looked at him a moment in perfect understanding. “No wife. No kids."

Oz nodded went to the closet and pulled out a heavy duffle bag from his wardrobe. Its contents clicked metallically as they shifted within. He pulled out a cheap set of sweats and quickly changed. When he was done he turned to Alex who was waiting by the door, grabbed his bag, and followed him out towards the parking complex.

They climbed silently into the dark nondescript van that Krycek liked to use for these jobs and drove away. "So what did this guy do to earn his death sentence?"

Alex answered, not bothering to look at Oz, "He's a low level asset. He thought he was just doing some industrial espionage for an independent agent. He had been warned before when he went looking for another customer to sell too. Now he's decided to blackmail his consortium contact.

Oz grunted his understanding. He hated the idea of killing anyone, but at least this wasn't some poor relative being used to send a message to a family member. He hated those. They made him sick inside, but Alex never lied to him about why someone was dying. But there was still a feeling that was keeping him more on edge than he would normally be. Something was not quite right with Alex, he smelled all wrong for such a cut and dried job, too keyed up.

***********************

Alex could feel the looks that Oz kept shooting him. Oz knew something was up. Probably that sense of smell. If the Smokestack had ever realized just how much Oz could figure out from the way a person smelled he would have been back in the lab in a heartbeat; and kept far away from Spender. He glanced at the clock on the dash. It was 5:17 pm. It would be dark in a little over half an hour but they were right on schedule. He pulled into BP #429 to gas up the van. He always had a full tank when leaving a crime scene.

When he was done, he said, "Oz, go hit the restroom." This too was established routine. There would be no blips in his habits to be noted in an after action review. He paid cash for the gas and intercepted Oz coming out the door. From there he passed off the keys to the van to a tall man with lank blond hair and received another set of keys in return. He could feel Oz freeze slightly next to him, registering this break in routine. The lank-haired man strolled over to the consortium van and Alex pulled Oz to a pale version of it. "Oz, I can get you out of the consortium. Do you want to go?"

"Yes." Oz didn't even need to think twice about his answer. If this was a trap he was willing to step into it. But Alex only nodded and led him to the new van.

"First we need to draw some blood, about two pints worth, enough to make your 'death' believable." Oz watched as Alex began to pull plastic bags and tubing out of a box. Oz laid his arm out on the armrest of the seat, and watched as Alex smoothly slid the needle into his vein.

"We will swing by the hit location. Agent Mulder," Alex clarified, "you'll remember him from Agrigen, will arrange your death scene. Once we get the probe out of your head, I've got a new identity for you and I have some connections who will escort you to parts unknown."

"They'll know I can't be killed by a regular bullet, though." Oz objected.

"Agent Mulder is the only man in law enforcement that the consortium would believe carries silver bullets. Not a problem." Alex reassured.

***********************

Skinner lead Scully into the room and she looked at the familiar beast spattered in blood, bound and chained flat to a heavy oak table and took a deep steadying breath. She still had nightmares about being trapped and unable to run as the beast attacked. An instrument tray was laid out waiting for her. "There he is agent Scully," rasped Krycek drawing her attention. "Your patient for the evening."

He walked to a light table, pulled some x-rays and some schematics from a folder, and laid them out. She left Skinner who settled himself comfortably on a chair in the corner and went to look at the information. Her brows knitting at what she saw. A long white shadow plunged into the creature's brain, heavy at the top anchored firmly to the skull. The battery that powered the device was located there, then tapering down to a hair thin narrow point where the electric charge was delivered to the pain center of the brain. Krycek turned to Scully. "The central core of it at the very least has to go. That's where the battery and the locator is," he said pointing to the location on the schematic. I want you to remove it, all of it if possible."

Scully was shaking her head. "Removing the shaft could do serious damage. Look at those small barbs on the shaft. They are designed to cause hemorrhage if it's removed." Her lips pursed in thought. "I have to assume that the battery is booby trapped in some way as well."

Krycek shrugged indifferently. "It is, that's why we are doing it now. When he is morphed he can recover from a truly spectacular amount of damage. I have the access code that should enable us to pull the battery without opening ports in the shaft to the brain. The central core is filled with a silver nitrate solution. That has to be completely flushed before you pull the core from the shaft. Silver does him permanent damage, dissolved as a liquid solution in his brain it would kill him."

"I can't take that kind of risk." She looked at him, shocked, "I'm not a neural surgeon."

Krycek swung his head up in her direction. "Yes, you can. Your best efforts, even if you fail, will be better than what the Consortium has planned for him." He stared at her intently. "It is a choice between you or a vivisection table after a long round of very painful testing. Hell, I'll do it myself if there is no other choice."

She measured his resolve for a moment then turned to look at the surgical tray; scalpels, retractors, and sponges.

She looked back up, businesslike now. "What about anesthetic?"

"He's had some ketamine and I'll give him more if he needs it. We have an hour and a half to get this done."

She nodded sharply and began to scrub-up listening as Krycek gave her the specifics from his files as Skinner looked on.

The operation went smoothly, and in almost total silence. The click of the silver scalpel against the instrument tray, the tap of Krycek's fingers on the keys of the data pad as he disarmed the safeguards, and the hoarse breath of their patient were the only sounds. At a nod from Krycek, Scully finally suctioned and flushed the core several times. She carefully pulled the core and breathed a sigh of relief as it came smoothly out. She inserted a solid plug into the chamber, sealed it, and wondered suddenly, "Krycek, where the hell are the sutures?"

"He won't need them." He reached over and deftly removed the retractors that were holding Oz's scalp apart. "Just push the edges together and butterfly it. Sunrise is an hour away and by then it will have healed enough not to need the stitches."

She looked dubiously at him but followed his instructions. She watched fascinated as the wound healed over the next hour. Alex and Skinner were busy meticulously bleaching every surface, removing fingerprints and rendering any blood evidence useless. Mulder arrived just before sunset.

The death scene was set. At sunrise the agents watched in fascination as Oz melted from beast to man. Krycek undid the restraints and with his bag on his shoulder, and took Oz to the van to clean himself up while the agents touched up the ‘crime scene’.. Less than 20 minutes after sunrise they were all ready to leave.

Krycek turned to Oz to say goodbye. They stared at each other. Krycek broke the silence saying, "Keep your head down and check your account, I'll need to use you some day." Scully's face was cold as she listened and Mulder's lip curled, he opened his mouth to jab at Krycek, but was cut off and startled into silence by Oz's answer.

"I'll miss you too." He hesitated, glanced at the FBI agents, then pulled Krycek a little further away and asked softly. "Are you going to tell him... how you feel about him?"

"No, as things stand he is even safer than he was before; the old men think they understand me now."

Oz nodded then turned to the agents and said solemnly, "Thank-you" and left. There was a van with a new identity and a used guitar outside. Alex had made provided him with a list of contacts and the safest places to go. He was weak from blood loss, his head hurt like a son of a bitch, but he had a new life waiting for him. That lamasery in Tibet sounded like a good start.

"Agents," Skinner turned to Mulder and Scully, “I need to speak with Krycek in private."

Mulder looked like he smelled something bad. Scully looked worried and asked, "Sir? Are you sure that that is a good idea?" Her eyes flicked back and forth between Krycek and Skinner. Mulder had a stubborn look on his face that said he didn't intend to go anywhere.

Skinner sighed tiredly. "It has been a very long night ... for all of us. When I'm done here you may ask any questions of me that you feel you must." It wasn't good enough for Mulder, but then that was why Skinner was so often thankful for Scully. She took her resentful partner's arm and dragged him out. Skinner watched, until the door closed behind him, and then turned back to Krycek.

He looked at Alex, his hard brown eyes burrowing into him. "It is over now. Never again."

Alex glared resentfully back at the man before him, turned his head away and answered, "Yeah, its over." He looked back at Skinner. "If it helps, I never had the idea that you secretly wanted me or anything."

Skinner wondered why Alex was giving him this seeming honesty now. In a private corner of his heart he admitted that it had never been the sex that grated, it had been the duress. His abhorrence of Alex was mitigated by the knowledge that Krycek hated and worked against his own masters, at least as often as he did their bidding. "Why the sex? Why me?"

"You know the world I live in. There's never only one motive," Krycek shaking off the softer feelings that were welling up. "God knows, if it were true love ... I'd have stayed as far from you as I could." He turned and left the building through the back way, leaving Skinner to follow his agents out into the morning sun.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head there is an unwritten 3rd chapter where those connections that Krycek turns Oz over to are the resistance, and the phage that allows him to transform is key to the destruction of the oiliens.


End file.
